


little boy blue & the man on the moon

by rebeccastangard (lionessamaya)



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Family, Homophobia, Homosexuality, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-10
Updated: 2012-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-30 21:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessamaya/pseuds/rebeccastangard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Blaine felt like a disappointment to his family, and one time he felt like a happy surprise. Spoilers for the Michael Jackson episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	little boy blue & the man on the moon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://glee-angst-meme.livejournal.com/26699.html?thread=15876427#t15876427) on the glee_angst_meme.
> 
> Title from Cat's in the Cradle.

I.

Sixth grade is halfway over, and February is bringing out the romance enthused of almost every eleven-year-old in the class. All of a sudden, instead of making Valentines for the entire class, Joe is telling Andy to tell Lily to tell Eve that he wants to give her a card. Everyone is buying gum, because it’s cheaper than chocolate, and seemingly instantaneously “I love you” is more than just an obligatory expression muttered at one’s mother every morning. Blaine can’t help but roll his eyes at such declarations, and he’s not alone. The more sensible girls in the class look terribly exasperated as well, clearly aware that Joe and Eve will last all of a week and the only ‘dates’ they go on consist of wandering around the school holding hands.

Still, it’s hard not to be affected by the sudden surge of romance. It’s a bit different for Blaine, obviously; he’s certainly not included in the discussion of whether or not Lily is wearing a bra yet. Instead, he wonders why he feels no particular desire to participate. Surely he should feel left out, or at least interested in the hypothetical bra? 

Even his family is caught up in the fervour. His parents go on their first evening out together in months, several days before Valentine’s Day. Nicholas spends the time crafting a card, not even bothering to boss Blaine around the way he usually does, in spite of the fact that Blaine is old enough that Nicholas isn’t even technically babysitting anymore. He spends ages on the lettering. Blaine hovers over his shoulder watching, and he doesn’t even notice. It reads simply “Dear Emily, Happy Valentine’s Day, Love Nick”, but it’s actually legible- he’s been carefully erasing messy words, instead of leaving them or scribbling over them.

Blaine makes mac and cheese, and pushes a bowl towards his brother. They’re not supposed to eat on the coffee table, but they’ll conceal the traces of their meal. Nicholas looks up in surprise. Then, he smiles in a way that hasn’t been directed towards his annoying little brother in a long time.

“Thanks, dude,” he says, before starting to shovel food into his mouth. He’s covering the card with one hand, as if Blaine hasn’t seen it already. Blaine takes a bite of his own helping, and makes a face. It’s incredibly mushy, but he forces it down anyway.

Their parents get home early, looking a little strained around the edges; it always happen when they spend too much time together, but they’re still smiling so it has to have gone fairly well. They don’t greet their children until their shoes are off and their coats hung up, but when they do, it’s fairly jovial. Their dad, uncharacteristically joking, spots the edge of the card where Nicholas has hastily shoved it under a place mat, and pulls it out. He grins.

“Emily, huh? I remember when I was fourteen!” Blaine watches with some envy, as Nicholas smiles a little shyly and explains about how he asked Emily out three weeks ago. It’s rare for their dad to talk to Blaine, but he seems to start conversations with his older brother easily enough. Moments later, he’s proved wrong; a question is directed his way. “What about you, kiddo, is there anyone special you’re making a Valentine for?”

Eager to respond and keep the focus on himself, Blaine says the first name that comes to mind: his best friend. The one who doesn’t laugh when he falls over in gym, or call him a sissy boy when he wants to hang out with the girls for a while. The only one who will ever hang out with him.

There’s a long, tense silence. Then their mom giggles, an anxious sound. This sets Nicholas off, and Blaine joins in a little hesitantly. Their dad stands abruptly, and heads upstairs to his office to work; their mom starts compulsively cleaning, and Nicholas just sighs. He looks like he maybe understands what’s going on, and Blaine wishes he would explain. 

He spends the next hour painstakingly cutting a heart out of construction paper. He glues it to the front of a card, and addresses it to Lily. He leaves it out on the kitchen counter. His dad must notice it, but he never says anything. Blaine waits for too long, leaves it there past Valentine’s Day in the hopes of winning some kind of approval.

A few days later, he gets called a fag for the third time. He thinks about the look on his dad’s face when he answered “Jeff”, and thinks that he maybe gets why everyone thinks it’s such a terrible insult.

II.

His first year at Dalton is one of the most stressful experiences of Blaine’s life. The students have long established their little cliques, and they stay away from the strange newcomer who transferred two months into the school year. The work is harder, the teachers stricter, and somehow being consistently ignored is worse than having insults constantly thrown his way.

By the end of the first semester, Blaine hasn’t slept a full night in weeks. They get their report cards back to bring home with them, a full week of vacation with his dad’s silence and his mom’s nervous babbling. He can’t wait. It doesn’t even occur to him to be worried until he opens the envelope, and doesn’t see the As and Bs he’s accustomed to. Instead, he’s met with three C+s, four Bs, and one C.

He doesn’t read the teacher’s comments, just blinks slowly and tries to breathe. He’s hit with terrible mental images of having to go back to public school, back to the taunts and beatings and- who was he kidding, he’ll take being invisible over being the resident faggot any day. The report card is crumpled in his hand when his mom comes to pick him up, and by the time they get home, he’s an alarming shade of white.

Nick hands over his paper first, the four of them collected around the table. It’s a tradition of sorts, and Nick has always gone first. There’s the usual discussion- he needs to try harder in Math, he has to understand that academics are just as important as sports. Their dad looks bored with the lecture. It’s one he’s given before, and probably not one he entirely agrees with. Blaine is certain his report card always looked just like Nick’s.

Blaine slides his over with shaking fingers, trying to keep his breathing steady. His parents read it in absolute silence. Then his dad reads out loud, voice just a hair too loud. Blaine shrinks in on himself, focusing on the tick of the clock in the background- anything other than being present in this moment.

“Social Responsibilities: We are worried that Blaine is having a hard time adjusting to this school. Although he seems to have a strong moral compass, he has been withdrawn from other students. We have yet to see him engage with his peers.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Blaine, are they giving you trouble? You know that there’s a zero tolerance policy, you can go to the administration.”

“No, dad,” Blaine says quietly. “I’m just still getting used to everything.”

No one even mentions his grades, but when he goes back the next week, he’s assigned a peer tutor. Gradually, the panic dissipates- the world isn’t ending over a lack of As on one report card. The anxiousness is replaced with dull embarrassment. For all that with Wes’s help he brings his grades back up to his previous average, he knows why his dad really requested it; he thinks that Blaine needs to be assigned a friend. The worst part is, he’s right.

III.

When Blaine asks to transfer to McKinley High, he’s careful to keep his chin held high. He tells his dad why in a steady voice, explaining that he wants to spend time with his boyfriend. He says that while he loves Dalton, he thinks that the money they’re putting towards it could be spent elsewhere. Nicholas didn’t get the athletic sponsorship towards college that he wanted, and staggering student loans would be an unfortunate start to his adult life.

Nicholas snorts a little at this explanation, passing the mashed potatoes towards Blaine, and smirking a little. Their dad just sits there, seemingly still stuck on the word ‘boyfriend’. They continue to eat, and nobody speaks again until their dad’s plate is clear. The scent of the cleaner they use to wipe down their glass table before and after meals is thick in the air, leaving Blaine with the urge to sneeze, but the sense that it would break the tension of the moment to do so.

“Whatever you want, Blaine. I’ve… tried really hard, to give you what you want. If this is what’s going to make you happy,” he spits this part, as if it pains him to say it, “then so be it.”

He leaves, face as still as a stone. They can hear him trooping up the stairs, a steady thump, thump, thump, as his feet stomp vengefully on each step. Blaine thinks about the Warblers, and the subtle exclusion he’s been treated to since they lost Regionals. He thinks about how sometimes, seeing Kurt is what pushes him through the day- not his only reason for living, far from it, but occasionally the only one who can remind him of the silver lining to everything. He thinks about the Glee club at McKinley, and how they’re a family more than anything. The Warblers are a well-greased machine, a friendly one, but not a group that will cry over each other’s losses and successes.

He contemplates trying to articulate any of this to his dad, as his mom talks about her day in a too-high voice. Nicholas is actually responding for once- usually, at dinner, he doesn’t speak until everything on his plate is obliterated- and they’re both leaving openings for Blaine to join in. He doesn’t take them up on the invitation.

When he stands up and goes to put his dishes in the kitchen, his mom stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Honey, he loves you very much. You know that. He just has a hard time- we all have a hard time-”

“Speak for yourself,” Nicholas interrupts, but his face is tired. It says, why do you keep doing things you know will make him angry? The fact that he’s sticking up for him now, when he has every reason to hate him, brings irrationally angry tears to Blaine’s eyes. He wipes at them viciously.

His mom’s hand falls away, and he sneezes as defiantly as one can. Then he storms up to his room, slamming the door behind him. He’s given up on stopping his crying; tears course down his cheeks unchecked. The plate and glass still in his hands crash to the ground, and shatter into pieces. 

He pulls out his phone, and starts to text Kurt- Thinking of you. In the quiet of his room, he can dimly hear the sounds of his dad’s choked sobs. His thumb hovers over the ‘send’ button.

He hits ‘delete’ instead.

I.

“Oh my god, honey, what happened?” his mom all but shrieks. She’s wringing her hands together. “I’m so sorry.”

Blaine presses a hand to his eye patch, and gives a wry smile.

“Believe it or not, it was… a musical rivalry, of sorts. The injury was an accident,” he lies. “We were having a bit of a prank war. I don’t even know who caused this; there was so much pandemonium going on at the time that they probably don’t even know. The entire other team feels terrible.”

It’s nothing close to the truth, of course, but he’s practiced it in the mirror. God knows he’s had enough time- he’s been in the hospital for a day, now. His dad is still in the doorway; his face is blank, but his eyes show worry. Nicholas has a comforting arm slung around his mom’s shoulders, for all that he should be in class. He looks out of place with his bright clothing, against the blank white walls.

“You nearly got your eye taken out… because of show choir? Seriously?” he asks, grinning a bit. “Dude, that is pathetic.”

Blaine rolls his eyes at him.

“I’m not sure about this public school business,” his dad says finally. “It seems a little dangerous.”

“It wouldn’t even have happened dad, but, well- it was about to hit someone else, so I kind of…” He’s stammering a bit- he won’t give up McKinley. He won’t give up Kurt. “I got in the way. On purpose.”

He thinks, somewhat numbly thanks to the painkillers, that he should be offended by the look of total shock on his dad’s face. It shouldn’t be so surprising that he would sacrifice himself a little for a friend. But then again, in his dad’s mind, that’s a manly thing to do. He’s long since given up on trying to get Blaine to do manly things. But maybe he’s underestimated him, because the next question is surprisingly astute.

“Was it Kurt?” his dad asks softly. 

The resulting silence is deep with years of trying to pretend that something doesn’t exist, but Blaine cuts it off after a few seconds. His voice is carefully neutral.

“Yes.” He waits for the reaction.

“Good,” his dad says. “You should always be willing to take a hit for a girl. Well. Not a girl. You know what I mean.”

He looks… gruff and awkward, standing there in his business suit, trying to make amends. Nicholas is smiling, a bit hesitantly, and their mom has tears in her eyes- Blaine, her expression screams, can’t you see how hard he’s trying?

“Kurt’s worth taking hits for,” Blaine replies, a little fierce.

His dad nods, making eye contact for the first time. There’s respect on his face, and Blaine is hit with a sensation that he hasn’t felt for a long time; the warmth of making his dad proud. He can’t help but smile, and when his mom moves in for a hug he doesn’t stiffen. He relaxes into it, instead.

“You’re so brave, baby,” she whispers. 

“Can we go, now? The doc said he needs sleep,” Nicholas says. He winks a bit at Blaine, who nods back, grateful for someone who knows when enough is enough. 

“I’ll… talk to you guys later,” he yawns. Then, hesitantly: “Thanks.”


End file.
